


Right or Wrong?

by lost_spook



Series: 50 Ficlets - Claim Kenny Phillips, Press Gang [25]
Category: Press Gang
Genre: Community: 50ficlets, Episode Tag, Episode: s05e01 Head and Heart, Gen, Mentions of Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-25 18:24:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/641709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_spook/pseuds/lost_spook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s just another middle of the night call from Lynda.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right or Wrong?

**Author's Note:**

> Refs to S5 ep Head and Heart (also vaguely Monday-Tuesday, Shouldn’t I Be Taller, S1, and The Last Word, S3). 
> 
> Warning for discussion of suicide.

“Lynda, do you know what time it is here?”

“If I’d wanted the time, Kenny, I’d have rung the talking clock. Anyway, I’m paying.”

“Something wrong, Lynda?”

“No. Why should it be?”

“You’re making an expensive phonecall to Australia just to tell me nothing’s wrong?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “You don’t get the _Gazette_ much down there, do you?”

“No, not really. Apparently it’s a bit too far for the paperboy most weeks.”

“Okay. Well, remember Winters?”

“What, the headmaster? Yeah, go on. What about him?”

“There’s a story. It’s about right and wrong and someone being stupid. And Colin’s love life.”

“Colin hasn’t set fire to himself again, has he?”

“No. Wish he _would_ , though.”

“Lynda?”

“I did the right thing. I couldn’t do anything else, no matter what some people might say. Dumb people,” said Lynda. “It’s not as if I care what _they_ think.”

Kenny waited for more, but she put the phone down on him. He heard the click and pressed the receiver to his head before replacing it. He considered the possibility of going back to sleep for one wistful moment, but then he sighed and dialled the number.

“Lynda, is there something you wanted to tell me?”

“I did the right thing,” said Lynda again. “He brought it on himself. Hoist by his own petard. I was going to say he deserved it all, but no one deserves Colin at a time like that.”

“And this is still about Winters?”

“Yes.” 

Kenny cursed the distance. “Lynda?”

“Look, I was right. I’ve got a duty to my readers and little things like truth and integrity in the printed word. I couldn’t hide that, not once I knew.”

“So, what, you ran an exposé on _Winters_?”

“Don’t you start!” she snapped. “I know what we owe him – I mean, Sullivan and Kerr, but him, too –” She fell silent again, and then she said, “What would you do if you’d just lost your job and your reputation – and I mean, I don’t suppose his wife’s too happy with him right now –”

“Lynda, you can’t –” Kenny shut up as his brain caught up with him. He understood what it was about now. “Yeah, but he wouldn’t, would he? Not Winters, I mean, he’s hardly the type.” He closed his eyes even as he said it: that was _dumb_.

“Who is?”

“Yeah,” Kenny forced himself to say. The memory of a gunshot hung along the line between them. No, make that two gunshots, thought Kenny, turning cold. “Still, I really don’t think –”

“No. I don’t either, but – well.” He could almost hear her shrug. “You know, when I became editor I kind of hoped the body count wouldn’t mount up this fast.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“It’s not like they put ‘executioner’ in the job description, is it?”

He wanted to try and joke back, but he couldn’t. “Lynda,” he said, and then failed to find anything else to say. He wished more than anything that he wasn’t on the other side of the world from her. But, then, with Lynda, it didn’t always make that much difference. Sometimes he couldn’t bridge the distance across their two adjoining desks. Then he leant back, and tried a different tack. “Look, this is my phone call now, so make it worth my while: what did Colin do?”

“Colin? Chatted up a girl, injured himself, failed to spot the obvious, ruined a guy’s life and got himself an advertising deal. Possibly even a date.”

“The usual, then.”

“Yeah. The usual.”

“And you’re not an executioner, Lynda.” No matter what everyone in graphics said, he added silently.

She managed a laugh. “Yeah? You can’t see the axe I keep under my desk.”

It might have helped, he thought when he put the phone down. He hoped it had, but he knew it wasn’t enough. It never was any more.


End file.
